


Adapting

by Purplefern



Series: Twins -- A Human|Squip AU [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Gen, Human Jeremy Heere's Squip, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Titles, Jeremy Heere is Shorter than Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere's Squip Uses They/Them Pronouns, Jeremy Heere's Squip looks like Jeremy Heere, Michael and the Squip are friends, Michael to the rescue, Overstimulation, Platonic Cuddling, Short Jeremy Heere's Squip, T only for swears, The Squip needs a hug, This started out as a vent fic, Two Shot, but then I actually liked the idea, idk months after the fact I decided to add that tag, the Squip is still adapting to this whole human thing, unhealthy eating habits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplefern/pseuds/Purplefern
Summary: Adapting to being human was proving to be a struggle. It looked like it was the humans' turn to advise the Squip.Chp 1: The Squip overlooks a very important part of being human. Michael has a solution.Chp 2: They couldn't handle having so many voices in their head. Luckily they don't have to struggle with it alone.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere & Jeremy Heere's Squip, Michael Mell &Jeremy Heere's Squip
Series: Twins -- A Human|Squip AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701745
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	1. Adapting

**Author's Note:**

> I’m too lazy to write up an actual origin fic, so here’s the basic backstory:
> 
> After the events of the Play, the Squip’s hardware is damaged, and ends up accidentality being rejected from Jeremy’s head. Normally, this would essentially “kill” it, since SQUIPs were designed to only work inside of a human host. But, the will to live is a powerful force, even for a supercomputer, so using the materials available to it (Jeremy’s DNA) they form themselves their own human body, essentially becoming their own host. (It’s more complicated than that, a bit more fusion-like, but anyway.) The long and short of it is that Human|Squip looks like Jeremy but slightly shorter and with blue eyes, kay? Kay. (This is probably the most self-indulgent, illogical thing I have ever written. I almost feel ashamed but then the fluff is so enticing and cute that I just can’t.)

“Jeremy, I do not feel well” informed the ex-supercomputer as they sat next to said teen in the highschool cafeteria. Jeremy couldn’t help but sigh in frustration. He really didn’t want to have to deal with all of this at school, but since turning human the Squip refused to be left behind, and seemed to cling to him wherever he went. Resisting the desire to roll his eyes (what a hero he was), he asked, “What’s wrong?” 

Their face scrunched in concentration (or pain, either way. So far Squip wasn’t too good with the whole “expressing emotions” thing), the Squip replied, “My head hurts. I fear that my code has not properly adapted to my new physical form”. 

Well, shit. That could be a real problem. Feeling out of his depth, Jeremy asked nervously in an attempt to pretend like he knew what he was doing, “Any other symptoms?” 

Still focusing intensely, Squip replied, “Yes. Fuzzy vision, lack of focus, and…” they reflected, “my stomach hurts” though they said this last observation doubtfully, as if they weren’t sure if that were true or not. Stomachs were not something they were used to having or thinking about. 

Jeremy pulled out of his spiraling panic as he realized that these “symptoms” sounded awfully familiar. “Wait a minute” he asked, glaring at his human look-alike, “Squip, when was the last time you ate?” 

“Ate?” they echoed distantly, as if the word only sounded vaguely familiar. After a moment, they answered, “I...don’t believe I have”. 

“Jesus _Christ_ , Squip!” Jeremy practically shouted at the admission, barely registering as Michael joined at their usual table and observed the drama. “You’ve been human for almost 5 days, and you haven’t eaten anything!?” 

“How have you not noticed that, dude?” piped up Michael from where he was getting out his own lunch, “They’ve been sitting at our table everyday, and they live with you”. 

Jeremy bristled at that, guilty and embarrassed. “I guess I’m just as used to seeing them as a computer as they are to being one, ok? I’m used to them not eating” defended Jeremy as he dug through his backpack for something the ex-computer could eat. Squip stared at him dazedly, but said nothing. His shoulders slumped as he found nothing, and realized that it was Friday, which meant he had no money left in his lunch account either. While Jeremy was panicking, and Squip was being slowly lost to staring into space, Michael casually grabbed a ziplock bagged sandwich from his own bag, and slid it over in front of the newly instated human. 

“Here” he explained, offering an encouraging smile at the two twins who just stared at the bag, “I was gonna eat this later, but you _probably_ need it a bit more. Anyway, I’m set with my sushi”. 

“Thanks, Michael” Jeremy practically sighed in relief. 

Uncertainly, Squip grabbed the sandwich and looked at it distrustfully. 

“You gotta eat” coaxed Michael as he started on his own lunch. Noticing their almost fearful look at the sandwich, he added, “It’s PB&J, the most basic sandwich ever. And if Jeremy isn’t allergic I bet you aren’t either”. 

Taking a deep breath (which the Squip found they were doing often since acquiring this form), they experimentally put the corner of the PB&J in their mouth, and almost immediately shuddered and spat it back out. It felt _wrong_. It felt so wrong and weird, and the texture was wrong and weird, and everything about this body was wrong and weird. 

Jeremy had noticed this, and shot the other “teen” a concerned look. “Is there something wrong with it?” 

“Jer, do you doubt my sandwich making skills?” asked Michael in retort, acting exaggeratedly offended. 

“No” replied Squip honestly, ignoring Michael and staring at the unassuming meal in their hands, “There’s nothing wrong with it, exactly”. 

“So, what’s the problem, then?” asked Jeremy, his concern rapidly edging away into annoyance when it seemed like the computer was just being difficult. 

“It’s...difficult to say”. Looking back to the meal, the new human berated themself for failing at so basic a human function. It was eating, it was necessary to survival. If they didn’t care about their own survival they wouldn’t have been here right now, so _why couldn’t they just eat the sandwich_ ? Filled with new determination, they tried again, biting into the bread and paste, and trying to keep it in their mouth. But it still felt foriegn and terrible, and the texture just wasn’t right, and they couldn’t keep it down and spat it out again. “I...I _can’t_ ” they admitted defeatedly, setting the sandwich down and looking at Jeremy miserably, “It feels too wrong”. They lacked the words to describe the off-ness any more accurately, and looked away from Jeremy’s disappointed and annoyed glare. But, as if calling attention to their dilemma had made the symptoms stronger, they couldn’t deny that they were feeling dizzy. They wanted to eat something, they knew that they should, but just the thought of that unnerving texture in their mouth made them shudder again. 

At their misery, Jeremy felt a wave of sympathy for his..friend? (were they friends?). He wanted to be mad at them, but ever since being human it seemed like they were never anything except for pathetic. It made it hard to stay mad at them, honestly. “Look, Squip” he said, trying to replace the annoyance in his voice with concern, “You have to eat something. This has gone on for long enough. What if you tried to eat something else?” 

“You could have some of my sushi if you want” suggested Michael, gesturing to the couple of rolls left on his tray. 

The Squip tried to picture eating the sushi, and felt sick. That seemed even worse than the sandwich. “No. But thank you, Michael”. 

“Damn it, Squip, why are you making this so difficult? Is it that hard for you to just eat something?” asked Jeremy, frustrated, and Squip shrank at the question. Though, distantly, they knew logically that Jeremy was just worried, they were far from adept at handling the intensity of human emotions, and they fell silent at the harsh wording, unwilling to admit that the question had hurt them. 

The table sat in silence for a moment, before Michael decided to speak up and break it.

“Squip, have you been drinking water since...you know?” asked Michael, giving the once supercomputer a thoughtful, scientific, look. 

“Yes” replied the Squip immediately, glad to have had a distraction from their messy feelings (and glad to at least be doing _something_ right), “That is something that is a familiar concept to both computers and humans. Even as a computer, I understood the need for coolant to prevent overheating. I suppose that transferred easier to human habits”. 

Michael hummed thoughtfully, finished the rest of his lunch, then said, “I’ll be right back” before getting up and walking towards the lunch lines. 

Jeremy and the Squip shared puzzled glances, not knowing what the boy was up to. “Didn’t Michael just finish his lunch?” asked the Squip, confused by this sudden behavior. 

“I don’t know” replied Jeremy, “Guess he just wanted to buy something else…?”

Barely a minute later, Michael reappeared, slamming a couple of bottles down on the table in front of the Squip. “Michael to the rescue, once again!” he couldn’t help but boast. 

Jeremy and Squip simultaneously grabbed a bottle and looked at the label, one with more comprehension than the other. 

“Michael, you’re a genius! This is a great idea” exclaimed Jeremy, grinning. Meanwhile Squip played with the bottle of Boost in their hands, not entirely understanding the significance of the substance. (Though they had been a powerful supercomputer with the internet at their disposal, it was hard to apply the human concepts of food they had learned to themself.) 

“Here, Squip, drink this” said Jeremy, passing his bottle over to the ex-computer, “At least this way you can have some calories in you. We can figure anything else out later.” 

The Squip stared at the bottle with a new comprehension, and hesitantly twisted off the cap. Taking another steadying breath (and disgusting themself with how not chill they were now that they were human. Was being chill always this difficult for humans?), they raised the bottle to their lips and took an experimental swig. It was fine. The liquid was only slightly thicker than water, and was far easier than the sandwich to simply sip and swallow. They blinked for a moment, then took another, slightly more desperate, slurp. It even tasted good, in fact. They didn’t notice as the two other humans at the table traded amused glances as they finished the first bottle and moved on to the second. Finishing it, they could realize how truly awful they had felt before. They finally felt less dizzy, and their headache alleviated some. It wasn’t perfect, they knew that, but it was certainly an improvement. 

“Feel better?” teased Michael, but they couldn’t find it in them to respond with contempt. 

Instead they replied honestly, “Yes. Thank you, Michael”. 

“No prob” said Michael easily, as the bell rang, signifying the end of lunch. Grabbing his bag, Michael stood up to go to his own classes, ruffling Squip’s hair as he passed. “Just maybe remember to eat, huh, Mr Roboto?” 

They stared daggers at him as they fixed their hair, lamenting that they couldn’t have had a human form that was closer to the height they were used to projecting. Jeremy just _had_ to be shorter than Michael, and they just _had_ to mess up with cloning and end up shorter than Jeremy. 

After Michael left, Jeremy grabbed his own things and headed to his own class, the Squip trailing behind him and still trying to get their hair back in order. 

“We’re not done talking about this, by the way” Jeremy commented over his shoulder, “There’s no way that you can just not eat for five days and expect me to just drop this” 

“I made...an error” they admitted, “But it has been corrected. There is nothing to talk about further” 

“Hmmm” Jeremy hummed angrily, but he didn’t say anything more. Right as the two got to the classroom door, the teen finally said, less angry and more worried, “Just...try to make it to dinner tonight, ok?” 

The Squip did not reply. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little idea I had. Hope my Michael was good. We get into more of Squip's human issues next chapter.


	2. Voices in Their Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter references my other fic “Anyone Can Cook”. Obviously you can understand what’s going on without reading that story, but it might not be as sentimental a gesture without the context. (Or maybe it is. I don’t really know.)

That evening found Squip (formerly The Squip), sitting curled up practically in a ball on the floor of Jeremy's room. They had elected not to join the Heeres for dinner, and just sat in the room clenching and unclenching their hands, shuddering at the still unfamiliar sensation of flesh touching flesh. They had a lot to think about regarding their existence at the moment. And it was unlikely they would find themselves able to keep down whatever the Heeres were eating, anyway. They were just a failure at being human like that. So incapable now that they couldn't perform the basic functions to stay alive, while once not long ago they always knew what to do. 

And that was another issue they were attempting to cope with. The Squip had always known how chaotic the human mind could be, how many voices humans had to deal with at a time--as a SQUIP it had been their job to help their human cope with those problems-- but actually experiencing it was something else. It was no wonder humans got SQUIPS, at least if what they were going through was any indication. 

They shivered as the feeling of the open air on their skin suddenly made them feel exposed and helpless, their new nerves sensitive to the slightest of sensations. Curling tighter into themselves, they wrapped their arms around their shoulders and shut their eyes tight. The feeling of cloth under their palms and arms around their chest was so much easier to tolerate than the cold exposedness of the open air making contact with flesh. It was just too much when before there had been nothing, and it made them feel unsettlingly and unfamiliarly small and helpless. 

Trying to focus on something other than the overwhelmingness of touch, instead they tried to sort through the other overwhelmingness of their mind at the moment. They were feeling so many things, they didn’t even know how to put a voice to them all, and they yearned to bring order to it all. But it seemed like no matter how much they tried to sort everything, it all remained as scattered as before. 

“Warning! Warning!” they called out out of habit as the feelings--both internal and external-- became too much for ~~their systems~~ them. They were overloading from it all, and they had no idea how to fix it. They were lost. They were so so lost and uncertain and none of this was anything like they had experienced before. No longer a supercomputer, but still barely understanding what it meant to be a human. And they couldn't even eat. They couldn't adapt enough for that, apparently. Food had to feel _wrong_. They were going to die, pathetic and slowly, because they were wrong and broken, and should never have survived this long in the first place. They should have died when they were seperated from Jeremy’s brain. They should have died during the play. What their SQUIP would say about them now, if they had one. Shameful. Failure. Disgrace. Pathetic. They heard voices saying this as clearly as if another person were saying it to them, and they desperately wished for them to go away.

The voices were new, and it seemed that they were never ending. They tried desperately to shut the thoughts down, to silence them, make them go _away_ , clenching their eyes shut even more fiercely, and clapping their hands over their ears as if that could stop them from hearing the voices that came from within. They were a momentously powerful supercomputer. Dealing with this sort of human problem was why they were created, it was their function, surely they could find a way to manage their own thoughts. 

“Warning!” they shouted, louder, hoping that somehow that would get their brain to respond, and take care of the problem like it _was supposed to_ , like _they were designed to_. 

The only thing they succeeded in getting to respond was the realization that right now the voice they desperately wanted to hear was Jeremy's. Jeremy's voice was always there. It had been a constant for them while they were still a SQUIP, always there, always present. With Jeremy’s voice gone, it felt like there was an empty hole in their mind where something was supposed to be, and it was far too quiet, making way for far more unpleasant voices to intrude and fill the space instead. 

Although the Squip knew better than to believe in human colloquialisms, they did wonder as, speak of the devil, there soon came a knocking on the door. They uncurled slightly at the sound, bringing their hands down off of their ears. 

"Squip?" came Jeremy's voice from the hall, "Hey, you, uh, didn't come to dinner. Soo, I , like, brought you some. I think you'd probably be able to eat it". 

They let out a breath, calming down slightly as the familiarity of hearing Jeremy’s voice did a little to drive the negative thoughts away, but they did not reply. The thought of dinner just gave rise to more depressingly insistent voices that they would never be able to eat it, they would never be a normal human. They were going to die, because they shouldn’t have lived in this way in the first place. Pathetic. Disgraceful. They absently felt their eyes burn, but attributed no meaning to this. It was likely just another sign of their shoddy attempt at keeping themself alive. 

“Ookay, you’re not saying anything, so I’m just gonna come in” said Jeremy after a beat of silence, opening the door and stepping inside. 

“Ok,” he said, looking down at the bowl in his hands instead of the miserable human curled on the floor, “I know the whole lunch sandwich thing didn’t work, so I think maybe…” finally looking up at Squip, Jeremy flinched and exclaimed, sounding shocked, “Squip! Are you crying?” 

For a moment the Squip didn’t know what Jeremy was talking about, until they experimentally raised a hand to their face and it came away wet. Detachedly, they replied, “It would appear that I am”. 

Jeremy scrambled to sit beside them, carefully maneuvering the bowl of food so that he didn’t spill it onto the carpet. Leaning against the wall, he sat nearly shoulder to shoulder with the Squip, awkwardly holding the bowl in his lap. 

“Do you, ah, want to talk about it…?”he asked, biting his lip and looking uncertain. 

They were unsure how to answer the question. They never knew what it was to feel helpless and desire comfort before. They knew that part of them wanted to break down and beg Jeremy to keep talking so that maybe his voice would drown out the incessant mocking ones, but they didn’t know what to do with that thought. They didn’t know how to speak about the chaos their mind had become, how to give a voice to all the different things they were feeling. So they tried hard to silence that thought and the others, to feel nothing and to only have to deal with one thought at a time. In the end they shook their head and remained quiet. 

“Okay” replied Jeremy, but he didn’t leave and stayed sitting next to them. They were grateful that they would not be left alone in the room, even if at the same time they were ashamed that they were being seen like this. 

“Anyway” he continued, “We had pasta for dinner. I cut up the noodles pretty small and added a lot of sauce, so it’s _kind of_ more liquid-y. I thought it might be a good baby-step for you, you know? A first shot at eating actual food” Procuring a spoon from his pocket, he passed the bowl over to the still-silent Squip, who looked at it critically, wondering hopefully if Jeremy may have had a point and that they would be able to actually eat the dish. 

“Bet you can’t guess who made it” said Jeremy, in what the Squip knew was a joking tone of sarcasm, but their humanity was once again getting in the way of logic, and they only felt hurt at the insinuation that they wouldn’t know. It fed right into the insecurities they had been working to fight, and they couldn’t help but snap back bitingly, “Jeremy, your father has no cooking skills to speak of. And you know I know that I didn’t cook it. I may no longer have a quantum processor, but I am not an idiot”. 

Jeremy raised his hands in a placating gesture, saying, “Relax. It was a joke? Sarcasm? C’mon you can’t use being a computer as an excuse, you always understood sarcasm”. 

“I always understood a lot of things” replied the Squip bitterly, staring off at the floor angrily. They were less than happy at being reminded of when they could, in fact, understand jokes and sarcasm with no personal effect. “That doesn’t mean that I understand them now”. 

“Squip. Eat your dinner. It’s gonna get cold” commanded Jeremy sternly after a moment, in a no-nonsense tone. The sentence broke them from their rapidly spiralling thoughts, and they sat up a little straighter, their hand moving automatically to complete the request. They recognized the tone that the boy was using. That was the “user wants them to do a command” voice. One that, admittedly, Jeremy had rarely used with them , but they recognized it when they heard it. A part of them couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved by the familiarity, and they found that following a command was easier than attempting to work with their own thoughts. Once again they reflected that this was why humans got SQUIPs. The perceived order helped them get over their apprehension at their second attempt at eating a meal. 

Jeremy was staring at them expectantly, so they took a spoon of the admittedly good smelling pasta, and took a bite. It was..more tolerable than the sandwich, and they managed to swallow it before going for another one. The more they steadily ate through it, the more they could actually appreciate how good it tasted. Savory and sweet, and so many things that they knew about abstractly but it was just on a whole different level to actual taste for themself. 

“Mmmm” they unconsciously hummed, moved by the flavor of the pasta. Soon the bowl was empty, and they found that they felt much better, in a way that was more than just fixing their hunger. “Thank you, Jeremy, That was…excellent”. 

“Well, pasta is something I can do. _Someone_ made sure I learned to cook” he teased, nudging Squip’s shoulder slightly. 

Jeremy’s second unfortunate reminder of the past upset them more than they would have anticipated, and their mood crashed right back down again. They _had_ done that. When they were in control and knew what they were doing and Jeremy was the hopeless one needing guidance. Setting the bowl to the side, they leaned their arms on their knees and observed, “Our roles have reversed, haven’t they? Now I’m the clueless human and you’re having to direct me”. 

Clearly Jeremy was not amused by their evasive statements, because he responded, a serious look in his eyes, “Ok, enough of this beating around the bush edgy emo poetic bullshit. I walk in and you’re freaking _crying_ and now you say a bunch of vague shit like that? What’s going on with you?” 

A blunt question. The Squip wished that they had a straight answer. Before, everything was simple, everything was logical, every one of their running thoughts could be regulated, maintained, orderly. “I am…struggling to adapt to my new state”. Jeremy said nothing, which gave them time to do what they had thought was impossible, and attempt to put together everything that they were feeling in a way that they could communicate it to Jeremy. “Everything about being human is just...so much” they reflected, considering that that was the most succinct way they could describe everything they were experiencing, “Compared to my existence as a computer-- a senseless world where every thought was easily regulated-- this is” they shook their head, trying to make sense of everything, to get the words out. They noticed, this time, when they started to cry, and paused in their speaking, both overcome with emotion and a kind of wonder at the novelty of feeling tears. The wonder wore off as they realized that crying was an uncomfortable business. It was as if the pain of the thoughts in their head had been given a physical form, their throat swelling and preventing them from being able to say any words, their eyes burning and dripping. But it stopped them from saying anything more, and doing anything other than heaving a shuddering breath and sobbing once again. They internally panicked at the complete lack of control they had, as their breathing hitched and their shoulders hunched, which only led to more tears flowing from their eyes. They looked to Jeremy for help, clueless on how to make the tears stop. 

Jeremy met their glance, and, giving them a small awkward smile, hesitantly moved over to wrap an arm around the other teen and pulled them against him in a side-armed hug. 

At first, they shivered, as they always did when their new nerves first touched something, but soon they relaxed and leaned their head onto Jeremy’s chest, allowing themselves to be comforted by his warm, safe presence. They couldn’t stop as another sob heaved out of them, though a distant part of them cringed at the mess they were surely making on Jeremy’s shirt, but they felt happier when Jeremy didn't react other than to hold them a little tighter. 

Wrapped tightly against Jeremy, they felt their whirlwind of thoughts quiet a moment for the first time since becoming aware of them. They took that moment, just closing their eyes and listening to Jeremy’s heartbeat, as it slowly drowned out anything else. Even more than his voice, Jeremy’s heartbeat was home. The rare moments when his voice was quiet while they were still a SQUIP, his heartbeat was always pulsing under everything else, always audible. Even now, it was a sign that he was here, and that they were here, and that that one standard was still intact. Between the dark, the steady presence of the sign of Jeremy’s life, and the close warmth of his arm around them, the illusion of their old circumstances helped settle their nerves and silence the voices. Gradually as they leaned against their human, their eyes started to dry. 

“Hey” spoke Jeremy in a kind but uncertain voice, his words cutting through their muffled thoughts and the sound of his heartbeat, “You good?” he asked, worriedly. 

Sitting up and opening their eyes, but not shifting Jeremy’s arm from their shoulders, they turned to him, relieved to find that they did feel calmer now. Though they also felt embarrassed at the display of helplessness that they had just shown. (They also noticed, as an aside, that they had left a large wet patch on Jeremy’s shirt, and cringed at that.) They were supposed to be a role model for chill, and that _certainly_ had not been. Clearing their throat, both as a distracting gesture and to get rid of the after-effects of their tears, they replied, “Yes. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me”

“I think they’re called ‘emotions’” suggested Jeremy, his tone light but his eyes concerned. 

“Yes” replied Squip thoughtfully, focusing once again on a spot on the floor and still grateful for Jeremy’s arm slung over their shoulders, “Definitely a lot to get used to. That and...everything else. The voices”. They felt silly putting it that way, but Jeremy seemed to know what they meant anyway, and nodded sympathetically. 

“There are just so many different thoughts, and feelings, and doubts. It’s overwhelming” complained the once computer. It wasn’t much, and it was hardly eloquent, but even saying this much out loud seemed to help. 

“Yeah, well, that’s being human” commented Jeremy, but he didn’t mean it unkindly. 

“It must take incredible strength…” muttered the Squip to the floor. 

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re one tough bastard, then” reassured Jeremy, tugging Squip a little tighter and then letting them go and standing up. “Enough moping around you sad sack. You need to get out of your own head for a little bit” he tugged at their hands, and they rolled their eyes but obliged, standing up and self-consciously rubbing at their face. 

“Help me wash the dishes, I left them in the sink to bring you dinner, and I don’t think dad’s gonna do them for us”. 

“From supercomputer to dishwasher, how far I’ve fallen” commented the Squip dryly, nonetheless following Jeremy out of the room. Jeremy shot them a concerned glance, but seemed to quickly realize they were just being sarcastic and then rolled his eyes. 

“Glad to hear you back to your old asshole self. You really had me worried there”. Considering Squip for a moment, he added just as they got to the entrance of the kitchen, “Don’t worry. It’ll get easier”. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was intended as being fully platonic. If you read it as Squipemey....I actually don't care all that much to be honest. Physical affection is something that I feel like I'm bad at writing, so I wouldn't be surprised if I missed my mark. 
> 
> At any rate, this was just an idea that I had, felt like throwing my hat into the Human|Squip ring. I actually have more ideas in this sort of AU in the works, soooo that might get posted at some point. 
> 
> Hope you liked, leave kudos, comments, etc. Thanks for reading.


End file.
